The Edge of a Star
by Juniorstarcatcher
Summary: Emperor Vader rules the galaxy. His wife is dead. His son is missing. His daughter is a traitor and a member of the Rebel Alliance. His new hope is in his grandson, Kylo Ren. Obsessed with the future and the legacy of The Force, Emperor Vader finds the perfect wife—and the perfect Empress—for his grandson on Jakku. There's only one problem: they're both drawn to the light.
1. Opening Crawl

THE GALAXY IS IN THE CLUTCHES OF THE FEARSOME EMPEROR VADER.

THERE IS NO ESCAPE FROM IMPERIAL RULE, NO ESCAPE FROM THE CRUELTY AND HARDSHIP OF A LIFE UNDER THE OPPRESSIVE REGIME OF EMPEROR VADER AND HIS PROTEGE, THE FEARSOME KYLO REN. EVEN NOW, IT IS SAID THAT EMPEROR VADER IS SCOURING THE GALAXY FOR SOMEONE, TEARING APART ENTIRE PLANETS IN SEARCH OF HIS MYSTERIOUS TARGET.

THOUGH THERE HAVE LONG BEEN LEGENDS OF LORD VADER'S WIFE AND CHILDREN PLOTTING A REBELLION AGAINST HIM, NO ONE HAS CONFIRMED SIGHTINGS OF THEM IN NEARLY FORTY YEARS. MANY HAVE LOST HOPE.

BUT SOME OF THE GALAXY STILL TURNS THEIR EYES TO THE STARS AND HOPES FOR THE DAY THAT THE LEGENDS ARE MADE REAL…


	2. Chapter One

_Chapter One_

The night in the Sinking Deserts of Jakku all smelled the same. In this vast expanse of desert, dotted with failed Imperial experiments from the weapons manufacturing and scientific research facility a few clicks due East, nothing much changed. Ever.

As temperatures dropped and the wind kicked up, even from her refuge inside of a rusted-out AT-AT, Rey's nose filled with the scents of Tuanulberry bushes and the silk of night watcher worms. The sounds of the night didn't change much either, and on they often formed a kind of scavenger's lullaby that hummed her to an uneasy sleep. The rustle of sand in the wind. The tapping of skittermice feet. The odd movements in the distance of only the most unseemly of Niima Outpost characters. The echoing of her own thoughts and wants and fears inside of her own head. The darkness, too, had a certain quality to it, a density. Impenetrable. Stoic. The darkness built walls around her, protecting her just as much as the aging belly of the AT-AT did.

But tonight…Tonight was different. Ever since she'd scarfed down her portion and settled into her makeshift bed, she couldn't help but notice something wasn't quite right. As a scavenger, one of her most useful skills was her ability to tune into the world around her and experience it, to actually feel the shifts and changes of her universe as they happened and adapt to them.

And that night, though there were more noises than she was used to—the whirring of Ion drives and the crunch of sand beneath boots—and the smell pervading the air was different—exhaust and sweat and a stringent bio-plastic polish—and though the quality of the darkness grew less and less opaque with every passing second until artificial lights seeped in through the cracks of her home, it wasn't any of those things that set her entire body on edge.

It was the way the universe shifted to accommodate new danger. The same way it shifted every time a horde of bandits tried to sneak up on her or a sandstorm threatened the horizon.

Only worse. Infinitely worse.

Without a second thought, she jumped up and began throwing everything she could carry into the nearest pack she could get her hands on, indiscriminately shoving her belongings—important or not—into it. She had to get away, had to run, had to—

Boom! No time. The makeshift door of her hovel blasted away from its weak hinges, and her fate was sealed. A pack of stormtroopers, led by a towering figure in chrome-plated armor, let themselves in.

Disaster. But Rey wasn't going down without a fight. Reaching for one of her wrenches, she held it aloft, threatening the squadron leader even as they shined star-bright penlights directly into her eyes.

"Get out of here," she commanded in the strongest voice she could manage. "I haven't done anything wrong. I'm—"

"Stand down." The communications system built into the leader's uniform crackled, a crackling that echoed the electric hum of the blue melee weapons pointed in Rey's direction. She took a step back, wrench in hand, only to realize there was no where else for her to run. She'd been cornered.

Fight or flight instincts kicked in. She couldn't be arrested. She couldn't let the Emperor's forces drag her away. Her parents would come back for her; leaving now would ensure that they never found her again. She raised the wrench higher, ready to take on an entire squadron herself.

"This is my home. You have no right—"

"By order of our Lord Vader, Emperor and liberator of the galaxy, you are to be detained until further notice."

She opened her mouth again—to scream, to question, to beg, to protest, anything—but no sound came out.

And that was the moment they took her.

Sometimes, in her dreams, she could almost pretend she remembered what it was like to travel in a starship. In the depths of her heart where she kept all of her hidden things, she knew that those remembrances—canned air on her skin, the tightness of space all around her, her mother smiling down at her and whispering that they would be back one day—were all the product of her desperate imagination.

She always expected that her first real adventure on a proper starship would be with her family. They'd swoop into Niima Outpost in a brand-new, beautiful Corellian vessel, ion engines blazing, scoop her up and take her somewhere lush and beautiful, temperate and homey, like the holo-cards she'd seen of Naboo and Chandrila.

She didn't expect to be knocked out planet-side, only to be reawakened on a starship with a vial of Uri Salts abruptly shoved under her nose. Spluttering back to life, she opened her eyes to realize she wasn't on Jakku anymore. In fact, she very much suspected—from the dark interiors that reflected the light of the stars beaming in front the view port in front of her and the black-clad officers rushing back and forth with stormtroopers close at their heels—that she had been tossed aboard an Imperial transport, one of the small light speed jumpers that serviced the larger Destroyers.

Just barely opening her eyes, she held herself as still as she could possibly manage, letting her pupils move just enough to take in her surroundings. She'd been strapped down to a high-backed black chair, shading most of her view, but she did manage to catch a few things. For one thing, she wasn't alone. To either side of her, she could see similar chairs in a line stretching down out of her peripheral vision, with dangling, female legs spilling over the sides of the chair just like her own. They were in some kind of abandoned hangar bay. No ships, which meant chances of escape—even if she could manage to work her way free of the metal restraints around her wrist—plummeted to exactly zero.

The impossibility of escape and a return to Jakku, though, wasn't what gripped her with panic.

It was the darkness.

There was darkness on this ship. A darkness she couldn't explain or name. It hovered in the air like a physical presence, stalking her. She shivered, though from the terror or the ship's freezing, canned air circulating across her bare arms, she couldn't tell.

"What's going on?" she hissed, more of a prayer of desperation than an actual question.

A response came from the green-legged creature to her right. "Don't speak."

Under normal circumstances, Rey might have agreed. Dealing with Unkar Plutt, for example, was always easier if she just didn't speak. Arguing never got her anywhere. But Unkar Plutt was a familiar classification of evil. This was something altogether worse, something that with every passing moment drove her further and further away from the place she needed to be. If The Empire stole her away to some far-off prison colony, then she'd never find her family.

"What are they doing to us?" she asked, turning her face slightly to the left, hoping for better luck with the creature sitting in that direction. Rey thanked the stars when that prisoner had fewer reservations about conversations. Still, they spoke in whispers to not agitate the stormtroopers standing at attention against the far walls of the hangar.

"We don't know." The feminine voice whispered. "They said that they would release us once we'd been inspected."

"Inspected for what?"

"We don't know. No one's said anything else."

Inspections. She'd heard rumors of Imperials scooping up women for their own cruel ends, but she'd imagined that those sort of tawdry tales were confined to the fiction of holo-novels. One thing she knew for sure, in the deepest parts of her? They were not going to be released. No matter what the Imperials promised.

The green, scaly creature to her right apparently grew her nerve, breaking the ominous silence to ask: "Does this have to do with the Rebellion?"

"I'm not part of the Rebellion," Rey snapped, instinctively, but her mind reeled at the very question.

"Exactly what Rebel scum would say," green legs replied, sniffing her displeasure.

Rey was too wrapped up in talk of The Rebellion against the Empire to even consider being offended at her implication. "I didn't even think the rebellion existed."

Again, all she had to go on were stories, conjecture. There was the tale of the Senator from Naboo, Padmay Ahmee Something or Other, who'd fallen in love with Darth Vader and bore his children, only to betray him and flee to a Force-Dead planet where he couldn't find her. Many said she started the Rebellion before she'd even left him, plotting to save the Galaxy from his grip. Some said she tried to save him from becoming the Emperor altogether, but she failed and fled with her children before he could kill them all. There was the tale of Darth Vader's son, who'd joined The Academy and become and Ace pilot, only betray his father and destroy the Death Star. There was talk of his daughter, who did everything from ferry secret messages across the galaxy to freeing entire planets full of slaves with her scoundrel husband as a duo of outlaws. There were even rumors that he'd stolen his own grandson from the arms of his daughter and taken him under his wing, training him for years to become the fearsome Kylo Ren.

If any of these were true, the Empire's propaganda ministries worked quickly to cover them up. After so many stories bleeding together and so many tall tales about run-ins with Darth Vader's rebel children or close shaves with Kylo Ren's dreaded lightsaber, Rey had given up faith that anyone was going to try to save the Galaxy.

But if other people knew about The Rebellion…

She shook her head, clearing all thoughts of salvation from The Empire out of her mind. No one was going to save the galaxy, especially not Darth Vader's children. If they existed at all, they weren't going to rescue her, not from this hangar bay and certainly not from the clutches of The Empire.

The girl to the right of her dared to raise her voice a little louder, stirred up by the excitement of gossip. "No one knows for sure. I heard—"

But she didn't get to finish her story, because just at that moment, a loud series of clacks filled the hangar bay, and a tightly formed phalanx of Imperial officers strutted out in perfect unison, halting in the center of the hangar until one stepped forward and addressed them all, raising a hand in an upward motion.

"Rise for your Emperor."

Rey glanced down at her hands and tugged on the restraints. The clacks must have been a remote release device, because this time when she pulled, her wrists came away from the chair.

The restraints encircling those wrists, however, stayed put. They tingled at her skin with a quiet electricity, an assurance that if she stepped one foot out of line, she'd be electrocuted into the next star system.

Only then, standing on steady feet, with a line of female aliens and humans of every description on either side of her, stretching out the length of the hangar, did she realize what the ashen-faced Imperial Officer with a shock of red hair had just said. The Emperor.

The Emperor was here.

And no sooner did she see him, resplendent and terrible in his towering, mechanical black suit than she knew that he was the darkness she had felt in the air. Her eyes traced his imposing form, only for her eyes to catch on the sword swinging at his hip. She'd heard of his laser-sword, but that was another thing she'd thought was just a myth.

Apparently, today was the day of myths and legends coming real.

As Emperor Vader stalked into the room, black cape flowing behind him, his steps deliberate and powerful, the leader of the Imperial troops stepped forward to announce him.

"The Emperor—"

But, it seemed that The Emperor was not in the mood for pomp and circumstance. Instead, he held up a hand, effectively silence the man, who rushed to join him as he surveyed the waiting women.

"These are the candidates?" A hissing, labored voice asked from behind Emperor Vader's mask.

"Yes, your excellency. As instructed."

When they reached the center of the room, Emperor Vader scanned the candidates. Rey's hands shook. Candidates for what? What could have been so important as to drag her, a nobody from Jakku, into the presence of the Emperor?

Slow, calculated words echoed from behind the mask. Leaving the Imperial lackey behind, he began to walk closer to them. Rey could only hope he wouldn't notice her. "You have all been chosen for a grand and glorious purpose. There is one among you…"

Her hope was in vain. Because just at that moment, a spark struck that darkness she felt in the air, and his gaze—or rather, the black eyes of his mask, came to focus solely on her. And her alone.

"One among you who will serve The Empire."

The world moved at half its normal speed. Rey struggled to make sense of what was happening. Emperor Vader, the other candidates forgotten, strode directly to her, stopping so close that she could see her own reflection in his polished armor.

He was a monster. And she saw herself reflected in him. The darkness settled over her, too, now.

But it was more than that. The edges of her vision clouded, and in a flash of a moment, images flashed before her mind's eye. An angry red laser-sword. A shattered view screen overlooking a sea of stars. A calm lake by a green countryside suddenly ravaged by an impossible storm. Emperor Vader, reaching up to remove his mask. A pendant in an unfamiliar design. A pair of gold dice. A crystal glowing in the darkness. A sad man with a pair of pretty eyes, holding his hand out to her.

Somehow, she knew the images had truth in them. They were real, as real as The Emperor standing here before her. And that, perhaps, was more terrifying than him.

"What is your name?"

"Rey," she said, surprised at the strength of her own voice. She didn't dare fidget or look away, didn't dare to ask questions or beg for mercy. He'd petrified her, tightening the darkness around her so she couldn't move. Despite the fact that she couldn't see his eyes, she knew he was examining her like a captured specimen, inspecting her.

"Rey," he repeated.

"Just Rey. Nothing else."

It was the first time, perhaps ever, that she'd admitted that out loud. She was nobody. Nothing.

Surely, Emperor Vader didn't want a nobody, for whatever purpose he had.

For another moment, he regarded her, then waved a gloved hand in her direction before stalking off and releasing the darkness that constricted her.

"This one."

The redheaded officer spoke up, his eyes widened in insubordinate shock. "But my Lord—"

"I have spoken."

And with that, exactly three things happened:

One, Emperor Vader disappeared.

Two, Rey's knees gave out from under her.

And three, she dreamed of the sad man with a pair of pretty eyes, holding out his hand to her.


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

_"Ben." _

_Kylo Ren had once been called by that cursed name—Ben Solo. But no one dared to call him that anymore. Even in his own private thoughts, Kylo Ren was the only name he dared even think. _

_That's how he knew that this was a dream. A vision. A nightmare. _

_He'd been having them for some time now, these inescapable stories his mind played for him when he was at his most defenseless. Always the same. Always painful._

_He found himself standing in a dark room. So dark he couldn't see his own hands or be sure of his own existence. Then, that soft voice called out to him again, this time more urgent. _

_"Ben!" _

_That's always when he saw her: The woman. She stood in a puddle of light, breaking up the darkness and reaching out to him, begging him to follow her out of the shadows. _

_He took the first step forward. And without fail, that's when he woke up. _

The Force was trying to speak to him. Kylo Ren understood that much. But he knew better than to listen. Even now, as he climbed down from his TIE-fighter and began the trek from the Emperor's Hangar towards the palace situated on the former site of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, it tried to whisper at him, trying to command his attention.

He couldn't let it. He'd been summoned by Emperor Vader from across the galaxy. Nothing could disturb his mind now, especially not any vision that might have come from The Light.

As he walked through the still, quiet palace, his feet barely making a sound on the carpeted floors and his presence barely disturbing the rarely-enjoyed finery decorating the walls, he steeled his mind.

_You are one with the Dark Side of the Force. The Light is trying to deceive you, to tear you away from your victory and the breaking of your chains. Don't trust it. _

Outside of the Throne Room, Kylo Ren slipped on his mask and prepared to face his master.

_Through victory, my chains are broken. _

The Sith Code had been written on the tablet of his heart. As he entered the Throne Room, the grand room in the center of the palace carved from a mountain of Obsidian Stone, he recited that code again and again, letting it push from his mind all thoughts of his visions or the screaming children he'd seen during his last mission or the dreams he'd had of his mother.

At the foot of the throne, itself a relic from the days of The Republic, Kylo Ren dropped to his knee before his master, lowering his head in respectful deference. "You summoned me, Emperor Vader."

"Ah, Kylo Ren. I assume you have returned victorious from your latest voyage to the Outer Rim?"

"The rebel cell fomenting on Tatooine has been obliterated. Just as you ordered."

This line of questioning puzzled him. A conversation like this could have been had over Comms. There was no reason that his master needed to meet with him, face-to-face, to discuss his campaign along the Outer Rim and give him a new assignment.

Something was out of the ordinary. Kylo didn't trust it. His hand floated back to his lightsaber, resting on the hilt.

"What are your new orders, my master?"

Lord Vader didn't move from his throne, but Kylo sensed a shift in his leader. His unease only grew. "You have sensed a disturbance in the dark side of the Force, haven't you?"

That was a loaded question. Kylo's hand gripped the hilt of his lightsaber tighter. Had he someone been able to learn of his visions of The Light? Or was he referring to something else, the other sensation that pervaded the air, even in this moment? He chose the latter, careful not to think too closely of The Light lest Vader feel his longing in The Force.

"It's as if there's a fading, a subsiding that I can't explain. You've felt it too?"

"It is my life force."

Behind his mask, Kylo's jaw quivered, threatening to drop. His master's master had conquered death, or so it was told. How could Darth Vader die? "Master—"

Vader cut him off, summoning him up off of his knees and towards his throne. Kylo did what he was asked without complaint, though inside, he chafed at being called forth like a trained animal. He repeated The Sith Code again. Obeying Lord Vader was the only way to break his chains. The only way.

"You long for power, don't you, my apprentice?"

"I long to do your will in the galaxy. To create it in our image."

"There is conflict in you. That call to The Light, it hasn't left you."

"I will defeat it as you did. I swear to you."

I swear it to myself. He knew all too well how destructive The Light could be. It had destroyed Padmé Amidala. It had taken his mother. His uncle. They were now weak, powerless against the might of The Dark Side, too. He would never become like them. Never.

There was a time when he wanted The Light, craved The Light. But no more. Lord Vader had shown him the way.

But if Lord Vader had any faith in his ability to fend off the incursion, he didn't show it. Instead, he altered the subject, returning to the subject of his own demise as cooly as one discussed transit plans across a star system.

"I will conquer death. There will be no stopping me this time. But there is another matter to which we must attend if I am to complete this journey."

"Yes, Master?"

Vader rose from his throne and began perusing the collection of ancient artifacts lining the walls. Some of them, Kylo recognized from his years of training. Items belonging to Darth Revan and Darth Sidious, but there were others—a silver pendant twisted in an ornate shape almost like the ancient crest of Naboo, a lightsaber with a blue blade—that he could never identify. This time, Vader seemed preoccupied with the pendant.

"The conquering of Death is not undertaken lightly. Nor is it easy. The Force must be bent to protect my life-energy. And should I not succeed, the lineage of Darth Vader must live on."

"The Skywalkers—"

No sooner had the errant word escaped his lips than he knew it was a mistake. Like a flash of lightning, Vader's anger permeated the room, cracking at the glass of the windows and threatening to pull down some of the ornate stonework of the ceiling. Kylo threw himself to his knees in apology.

The little boy inside of him, Ben Solo, who'd been buried and forgotten a long time ago, trembled in fear and searched for the light that would save him from the encroaching darkness. Kylo Ren ignored his cries.

"Do not ever speak of them!"

"I'm sorry, Master. I beg your forgiveness."

After a moment, the anger subsided, loosening its hold on the building around them. Vader turned from his artifacts. "Your pathetic obsession with them will be your undoing. But that will change. Soon." He approached Kylo. "As you know, I've been scouring the galaxy for something."

"Yes," he said, unsure if he was meant to know any more than that.

There were rumors of Imperial soldiers kidnapping women, of storming into villages and ripping girls from their homes. Rumors of resistance quashed by Vader tearing down houses without even looking at them. But the rumors didn't tell him anything about the purpose of these raids.

"That something—and your next mission— is in your chambers."

This time, Kylo couldn't contain his confusion. "My chambers?"

"When I leave this mortal plane and pursue immortality, the galaxy will need a new emperor. And an empress."

"The Force is my Empress," Kylo said, mimicking what his master himself had said so many times before.

Darth Vader didn't sound so convinced. And, if Kylo were telling the truth, he was not convinced either. That draw to The Light, he knew it was entangled with love. Part of his soul yearned for it, threatened to stretch out of the darkness to get it. He could tell Darth Vader that his only desire was to rule the galaxy as a loyal devotee of The Sith, but they both knew it wasn't true. It hadn't ever been true.

But one day, Kylo Ren swore, it would be true. He would cut out the part of himself that yearned to love and kill it.

Love was an artifact of his past, just as ancient and useless as the artifacts in Vader's collection. He would be rid of it one day.

"Perhaps. But it was The Force that led me to her. The Force that wills you two to be together. Have you not felt that, too?"

"I…" He considered the question and knew he could not tell the entire truth. "…I will complete with The Force has put in motion. Always."

"Together, you will rule and together, you will create the legacy we seek."

"I am honored—"

Vader held his hand up for silence.

"There is more."

"Of course," Kylo Ren bowed his head and waited for more instruction.

His entire being told him that an Empress, that a woman in his life, was a dangerous prospect. He was on the blade's edge of being—one accidental move would throw him to the mercy of The Light Side of The Force. But, thankfully, Lord Vader understood. And Lord Vader saw more than he could.

"She will pull you away from the light. I have foreseen it. As the Senator from Naboo did for Anakin Skywalker, so too will this Rey from Jakku be to Ben Solo. And one day, you shall have the power that you seek."

Kylo couldn't speak. He couldn't think. But he did manage to nod his agreement. With just that one small speech from his master, he knew that this was the mission he'd been waiting for his whole life, the mission that would finally mold him in Darth Vader's image.

He would finally be able to leave The Light and his past behind for good.

"Go. Meet with her. You have much to discuss."

"Your will is my command, master. Thank you for this mission."

With nothing further to say, Kylo accepted his dismissal and began his journey to his chambers at the far end of the palace. With every step, his dead heart constricted tighter and tighter, gripping painfully at the center of his chest. He leaned into the feeling, relishing it. The pain would only bring him deeper into the darkness.

Outside of his door, however, his hand hovered over the entrance panel. With just a few taps at the key-screen, he would meet the woman who would become his Empress, the woman who would plunge him into his destiny.

He braced himself to face his future and opened the door.

But the moment he saw her, standing in the window, drinking in the sights and lights of Coruscant, he knew that his master had been wrong.

This girl wasn't going to keep him from The Light. This girl _was_ The Light.


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

There were worse prisons in which to be captured, Rey thought as she stared at the room where they'd shoved her. Whatever she had been expecting—cells dug into the snow of some remote ice planet somewhere, far-away Spice mines, a cargo ship drifting out towards the edges of chartered space—it hadn't been this: a dark palace, carved out of Obsidian stone, furnished with the finery of the Galaxy. Crimson carpets and drapery, black and silver silks, beds—real beds!—carved out of real trees, mechanical devices she didn't yet understand and art pieces she didn't want to.

It wasn't any kind of Hell, she decided. At least not yet. The only people she'd been in contact with since her meeting with Emperor Vader had been Stormtroopers, but there was still time for Hell to find her. Once she found out their purpose for stealing her away from home…that's probably when it would creep up behind her and hold her fast. Yes, the room looked nice enough now, but she wouldn't let it lull her into a false sense of security.

There was something else, though, that disturbed her. Down to her core. A small thing, really. Despite the beauty of her surroundings, everything about this place was unnatural, unreal. Nothing was as it should have been; nothing was in its original state. Carved wood. Blasted, polished stone. Plants trapped in crystal. The city beneath her, too, was devoid of anything real. No green grass or fresh running water or desert sand. Even the cold air on her skin, so different from the morning heat or the nighttime chill of Jakku, spread across her like a false, second skin, thick and heavy.

After she'd waited to make sure the Stormtroopers weren't going to randomly barge in, she immediately set to work on the place, checking every panel and every crack and wall for signs of weakness. Escaping from The Empire wouldn't do her any favors— they'd probably put a bounty on her head the second she stepped out of their sight—but she couldn't stay here. Jakku was waiting for her. And she needed to get out before this ornate room turned into an ornate torture chamber. Whatever they had in store for her couldn't be good, and she didn't want to be around when they finally got around to doling it out.

But an hour later, dripping with desperation-scented sweat, she collapsed in the window seat of the firmly sealed circular window. Hovering high over the planet below, she could almost be certain they were on Coruscant. The city below her buzzed and hummed with excitement and life. From here, she couldn't see the stormtroopers hassling merchants or Imperial cadets pushing their weight around with the locals. From here, she was halfway between the blue sky of freedom and a planet-sized city…a city she could disappear into.

A pane of impenetrable glass kept her from those temptations, taunting her with their closeness. In that moment, she vowed she would get out of this place, one way or another. No matter what it took. If she'd learned one thing on Jakku, it was that she may be a nobody, but she was a survivor, too.

Rey knew something was coming for her even before the keypad activated the door and revealed him. Rey didn't know how she knew, but she did. Still, she didn't give the intruder the dignity of her attention. She focused on the window, on freedom.

Eyes on the blue sky over Coruscant, she couldn't help but sense the shift in the room. This was not like when Vader had approached; there was no cloak of darkness wrapping around her like a clenched fist threatening to drain her of life. It was erratic, a push and pull of light and dark, of chill and warmth, of safety and danger.

It intrigued her. It took every ounce of her energy to stay focused on the window, to drink in the sun and cling to its heat.

Then, the window betrayed her, catching the electric glare and reflecting a cloaked, masked figure standing behind her, the one she knew so well from so many holo-projections of Empire events. Her blood turned to ice.

"Kylo Ren," she muttered, from between clenched teeth.

"I see my reputation has precedes me," came the voice from the modulated speech device somewhere inside of his mask.

At least, she thought it must have been modulated. There was something artificial about it, something not quite human. No one had ever seen Kylo Ren without his mask on and lived to tell the tale, so she had to wonder…Was he human at all?

Human or not, his sudden appearance without guards, without weapons, without anything but anger in his voice, sent her heart racing. She unfurled herself from the window seat and pressed herself against it, glancing in every direction for something she could use to defend herself if the need arose. There was a freedom talking to him that she didn't have with Emperor Vader. Without even touching her, he'd seemed to choke the will to speak out of her. Whereas the rage that permeated Kylo Ren only fed her own. She didn't miss the way he stood in the door, blocking her only sure exit with his brutally imposing form.

"Your infamy, more like," she muttered, darkly. "Your crimes."

"I don't have the same advantage. Your name?" he asked. Then, his almost disinterested tone turned into a fiery command. "Your name."

Keep him talking, she reminded herself. If he's here to torture you, then maybe he'll slip up and say something that will help you escape if you get the chance. Just keep him talking. Giving him any ground in this battle of words tore at her pride, but self-preservation won out. "…Rey."

"Rey." If she didn't know better—that he was a monster with a heart as opaque and metallic as that mask of his—she might have thought he was savoring the word. In any event, he erased the softness of her name a cold rebuke. She didn't miss the way his hands shook as he began to pace the room like a caged Steelpecker. "What are you doing here?"

She blinked. Wasn't he supposed to know that? "What?"

"Tell me what you are doing here."

Fire blazed up the column of her throat. Rage swallowed up her self-preservation instincts whole. "I was taken from my home, thrown aboard a ship, interrogated by your Emperor Vader and dumped in this room not even a cycle ago. No one has told me anything but that I am to serve your great and glorious empire. Why don't you tell me what I am doing here?"

"You are our prisoner."

"Oh, is that so? Well, I suppose that explains the locked doors and sealed windows." This time, when she repeated the question, she separated each word deliberately. If she was a prisoner of The Empire, and if there was no escape, then she'd die knowing that she didn't go down without a fight. "What am I doing here?"

"The Force has brought you here. Brought you to me."

No, a few stormtroopers and your precious Emperor and a heavy dosing of med-gas did that. Swallowing the retort, her mind caught on those two little words. The Force. She'd heard stories, of course, but no one really believed The Force was real…Did they?

"The Force? Like the old legends of The Jedi?"

"The Truth of The Sith. Yes." Closing four of the six long paces between them, Kylo Ren lorded over her, the eyes behind his dark mask no doubt examining her. For her part, Rey couldn't quite wrap her mind around how big he was and how small she felt in his presence. Oblivious to the fear rattling on inside of her, the fear she fought so hard to conceal, he continued on, strained. "The Force has ordained that you will one day be my Empress."

"Your Empress—I would never—"

"You don't have a choice!"

The sound of his shout struck the walls, knocking her back a step as though she'd been knocked back by his own two hands. This time, there was no mistaking what hung in the air. Darkness. Rage. A power that Rey wasn't entirely sure Kylo Ren knew how to control.

And there was helplessness. As if he, the chosen successor of the might Emperor, heir to the entire Galactic Empire, were as much a pawn in this game as he was.

"Anyway, it's of little consequence. I'm sending you back. You can't be the one The Force chose. There must have been something…" He stopped himself, then settled. His breathing grew less erratic. His shoulders squared. Even without the benefit of seeing his face, she knew he was regarding her imperiously, dismissively. "You can't be right."

"So, Emperor Vader was wrong?" she asked.

"Emperor Vader is never wrong. You would do well to remember it."

"It seems like you're the one who's forgotten it, Kylo Ren."

It wasn't that she wanted him to be right. It wasn't that she wanted to stay here. But it was the first time in this entire conversation where she felt, for even a brief flicker of a moment, that she'd managed to capture the upper hand in this discussion. His entire body stiffened beneath his cloak; she watched as he flexed and unfixed his hands before taking off for the door.

"You will remain here. You will become my Empress, as The Force and as Emperor Vader commands. These are my chambers. I will find something more suitable for you. Stay here until then."

What happened next, she would never be able to explain. He went for the access panel that would free him from this room, but the air tightened around her lungs until she said the one thing dominating her thoughts.

"Take off the mask," she exclaimed.

"What?"

She scrambled for some kind of explanation. Crossing her arms over her chest, she held her ground. "If I'm to be captured here, I need to know the face of my captor."

Kylo Ren did not turn around. He didn't leave either. "Prisoners do not make demands."

"You've seen my face," she said, braver than she felt. "Show me yours."

Slowly, impossibly slowly, he moved to face her once again. For the first time, she couldn't identify the balance of the room, if it was light or dark, warm or cold, promising or deadly. Instead, it crackled, sparking at her skin and shocking her heart into overtime.

"Come here," he commanded.

Fear paralyzed her. Taking a single step forward felt more difficult and more terrifying than crossing an ocean of stars on foot.

"I'm not going to hurt you. Come closer."

He extended his gloved hand towards her, an invitation. The knots forming in her shoulders and just behind her knees keeping her paralyzed began to loosen at the sound of his voice. This time, she knew she wasn't imagining things. He had softened.

Or, if he hadn't softened, he was exhausted. Too exhausted to fight her any more. It was the voice of surrender.

Tentatively, she moved her soft sandboots across the carpet, stepping forward until she was close enough to count the tiny chips in his helmet, battle scars from years of fighting The Emperor's battles. Now, she was invading his space, so close he could reach out and toss her across the room or rip off his helmet and kiss her. The possibilities of their proximity were endless.

When he was satisfied with her closeness, he first went to work on his gloves, slowly, finger by finger, removing them until the bare skin of his hands presented themselves to her. So, he was a man after all. A strange warmth of relief tinged the tension pooling in her belly.

She'd asked for him to take his mask off, yet, as he reached up to remove it, her breast filled with a cocktail of excitement and fear, of anticipation and dread. A hiss and the mask depressurized. He slipped it away from his face, tucking it in the crook of one of his elbows.

Yes, he was human. And he was magnificent. He stole her breath right out of her lungs.

But it was nothing compared to what came next. Their eyes locked. And she recognized him. He was the man with pretty eyes. The man with the sad eyes. He was the one she'd seen in the vision in Vader's mask.

It was as if her heart shredded in that moment. The man she'd dreamed of was Kylo Ren.

Then, something strange happened. With his free hand, Kylo Ren reached up for her face, his fingertips ghosting along her skin, grazing, but not quite touching, until the pads of his fingers came to rest just at her temple. The connection between them was instant, an exploding star suddenly reforming and being made whole.

"Do you know?" Kylo whispered, his eyes searching hers.

"Know what?"

His pink lips parted. The ghost of his breath dusted her cheek. And just as quickly as he'd sparked their connection, he broke it again.

"Nothing." He placed his helmet back on his head. Rage flooded the room. "There. Are you satisfied?"

Reeling from the spell she'd fallen under, still caught up in the mist of her memories, of the terror that she'd seen him in Vader's eyes in the Hangar, of the beauty of his eyes and the warmth she saw lurking behind them…She barely managed a dumbstruck nod.

"I'll send for you later."

Just like that, Kylo Ren disappeared, leaving her alone with her thoughts once again. She was to become The Empress, the wife of the fearsome Kylo Ren. She'd been told her purpose, told she wouldn't be harmed, told that The Force had brought her here…She should have been satisfied with that knowledge.

But no. She'd asked him to take off his mask. And in doing so, she'd ruined the one defense she had against him: that he was a monster. Suddenly, the frenetic shifting of light and dark she sensed around him made sense. He wasn't a monster. He just wanted the world to think him one.

* * *

**That's the new chapter! Thank you all for your support on the last one. I can't wait to hear your thoughts now that they've met! Please leave a review and let me know what you think!**


	5. Chapter Four

_Chapter Four_

They'd left Rey alone in Kylo Ren's bedroom. And every time she thought too closely about that fact, she could barely suppress a shudder. At least it was better than the vomit she had to suppress any time she thought about marrying him.

Perhaps he wasn't a complete monster, but even half a monster was still a monster.

The monster who currently held her by the leash. Picking herself up from the edge of the bed where she'd collapsed after his departure, she decided to use this time to her advantage. She had no idea when she'd next be in this room. And even if she did make it back here, there was no telling what she'd be asked to do once she got here.

The thought of his hands on her, of laying her out on the bed, of removing those gloves again and touching parts of her more intimate than her temples, wracked her body with chill-bumps and twisted her stomach in unfamiliar, forbidden ways.

If the next time she came in here was to consummate their marriage, then this was her only chance to learn about Kylo Ren without his knowing it. She couldn't let this moment pass her by, couldn't just sit here and count the flecks of imperfect white in the Obsidian stone of the walls until they came to retrieve her again. No, she was going to snoop until she found some information about this man that she could use to her advantage.

Maybe if she could infiltrate his mind, she could find something in him to help her escape this place.

At first, the search didn't turn up anything useful. Data pads in ancient languages she didn't understand. Battle plans. Artifacts she couldn't place in history. A wardrobe consisting entirely of black robes and thick, black quilted fabrics. Nothing that revealed anything about the man himself.

But then, in the back of the wardrobe dug into the stone, behind the flowing capes that blended into the walls, she found two small chests. Glancing over her shoulder, she checked that no one was coming, and then, she opened them.

She'd started this search looking for answers, but what she found inside only brought up more questions.

For one thing, neither of the chests had any collected dust. They'd both been open recently and, if she were to hazard a guess, they were opened frequently. In one box, contained fragments and broken parts of mechanical devices—comm systems, speeders, lighting rigs, and more rusted-out tools than she'd ever have known what to do with back on Jakku. In the other, there was paper, real paper, and ink-stained pens with delicate hide-bristle brushes.

Kylo Ren, one of the most feared and powerful men in the entire galaxy…was secretly a tinkerer who practiced the ancient art of writing?

There were other things in the boxes, too. A gold metal tied with a brown-green sash. A holo-disk that must have been at least fifteen cycles old, one inscribed in Aurebesh with the word home. A homemade looking stuffed doll of a raggedy brown creature—a Wookie?— with a tiny bowcaster slung across its back.

Her heart clenched. And for the first time, she wondered…The walls and windows of this room were impenetrable. The castle was a fortress surrounded by guards on every side. There was no hope of escape.

Was this place as much a prison for him as it was for her?

Carefully, she returned the two crates back to their positions and closed the wardrobe behind her. Of everything she'd seen during her time with The Empire, it was the contents of those two boxes that disturbed her the most.

Perhaps it was better not to go searching for the truth of Kylo Ren.

A good time later, a single Stormtrooper entered the room, his neat uniform serving as a blinding counterpoint to the darkness of the space. In one arm, he aimed a blaster. In the other, she spotted a strange, black object and a pair of dangling restraints. Her throat tightened.

"Your presence is required in The Grand Atrium," the Stormtrooper said, standing at attention in the doorway.

Rey bristled. Both at the order and the idea of sitting with Kylo Ren for a prolonged dinner. After what she now knew about him, she wasn't sure she could handle it. "I'm not hungry."

"Your presence is required in The Grand Atrium and you will dress for dinner." The Stormtrooper held out the black object. Upon further inspection, she discovered that it was a garment case, one of the impossibly fancy ones she'd sometimes seen in holo-advertisements. . "If you resist, I am to put these restraints on you."

She hesitated. After a moment, he offered her the case again. His voice softened, something she didn't know Stormtroopers were capable of.

"Please, my lady. I don't want to put the restraints on you."

"Fine."

Relieving him of the case, she went into the bathroom in search of the refresher. The quickest cycle wiped the grime and sweat from her skin, leaving her pink and clean for whatever monstrosity of an outfit had been selected for her. Bracing herself for the worst, she opened the case and withdrew the fabric. A sea of black material unfurled down to the floor, revealing itself in all of its glory.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd worn a dress. And she didn't think she'd ever worn black. The temptation to put her own clothes back on was staggering, but she powered through, sliding into the gown that fit like a second skin. She observed herself in the mirror. It was beautiful, with a high neckline and flowing sleeves that left her even more covered than in her clothes from Jakku. It was like she'd collected up the night sky and draped it over her own form, hugging the curves she didn't even know she had.

The shoes were, mercifully, flat, and she slipped those on before returning to the bedroom and following Finn's lead through the castle.

It felt more like a death march than an escorted walk to dinner. But at least she wasn't handcuffed.

"What is your name?" she asked after a long stretch of infuriating silence.

"My…name?"

"Yes, your name. Everyone has a name, don't they?"

"Finn. My name is Finn. My designation is—"

"Finn, I wanted to thank you," she said as they rounded yet another one of the castle's identical black corridors. During their walk, she'd been trying to puzzle out the map of this place, so she could retrace her steps later if need be. But the only thing distinguishing one hall from another was the collection of stolen art from countless cultures across the galaxy splattered across the walls. Planning out an escape would be difficult even with a guide droid.

"F-For what?" Finn stammered.

Something in the air told her that Finn could be trusted. He, unlike many she'd met and seen since leaving Jakku, actually had a conscience. So, she confided in him. "For not putting the restraints on me. I know many in your place would have as soon as I resisted, but you didn't. Thank you. I don't want to feel like a prisoner here."

"You should hurry. Emperor Vader doesn't like to be kept waiting," Finn said, carefully evading her.

But she wasn't going to be evaded. She'd hoped reminding him that she was a prisoner would encourage his empathy, but that hadn't worked. Lowering her voice but speeding her steps, she tried the more direct approach.

"Do you know how to get out of here? How to escape?"

"We aren't supposed to talk."

"But—"

He hesitated outside of a grand set of doors, carved with images of Emperor Vader in triumph. Rey's blood chilled at the sight of his lightsaber piercing his enemies. Finn placed his hand on the door, but did not move to open it. "Please. They won't hurt you, but they would hurt me."

"Okay."

The hope she'd felt only a moment ago, that this person could help her find salvation, dissolved in a puddle of her own morals. She couldn't knowingly put a stranger in danger, especially not one who had been nice to her. Never.

"Do you want some advice, though?"

"Yes. Anything."

"Kylo Ren isn't your enemy."

"But—"

"And don't worry, my lady. You'll make it out of here. The Force is with you."

"What?" she asked, desperate for answers.

But by then, it was too late to hear if he even offered a reply. Because there she was, in The Grand Atrium, staring at a long table, at which sat Kylo Ren and Emperor Darth Vader.

Vader's hissing breath reached her ears, scraping at the back of her skull like the sudden colliding of metal against metal. "Ah, Rey of Jakku. We've been expecting you."

* * *

When Kylo Ren was young, in the days before he even was Kylo Ren, his father took him out in his aging Corellian Freighter to the edges of the known galaxy. On their way back, far away from any kind of civilization that could have saved them, their gravity regulator went bust. The boy he had been, Ben Solo, had been sleeping when it happened, and he remembered his eyes flickering open at the exact moment when the world shifted, the fraction of a second when he was caught between dreams and wakefulness, between density and weightlessness.

Sitting at the right hand of Emperor Vader, across from Rey, he couldn't help but feel that same sensation again. Only this time, he was not caught between sleeping and floating, but between lightness and darkness. The chamber hummed with the effort it took to keep himself balanced firmly on The Emperor's side.

This entire exercise was for Vader's benefit, of course. Though Vader didn't eat at meal times, it was clear he wanted to inspect their newest addition when she was vulnerable. Or, at least, when he thought she was vulnerable.

Kylo did his best to guard his thoughts, lest they betray him. He didn't need his master knowing the ways in which his entire being came to life at the sight of Rey in the gown that he'd chosen for her. She may have been made of The Light, but she looked damn good cloaked in darkness.

"I trust that your stay has been comfortable," Emperor Vader said, watching at Rey picked at the overflowing plate before her. Without his mask, Kylo needed to be careful not to let his eyes or expression give him away.

"As comfortable as one can be in a cage," Rey muttered.

Fear gripped him. Kylo glanced up at her from under his eyelashes, silently sending her messages to stop talking. No one questioned The Emperor. After that glance into her mind, he knew she didn't know anything of The Force or her power in it, but perhaps he could get through to her if he focused hard enough. Please don't push him. Don't. If you want to live, you won't continue this any further.

"Many in The Empire would give anything to be in such a cage," Vader countered.

"Then you should have kidnapped one of them instead."

"…You forget yourself."

Vader's voice was dangerous, low. A final warning. Many wouldn't have lived to see a first warning, much less a final one. Kylo watched as his master's hand clenched into a tight fist upon the table. Rey, having heard the warning, didn't back down. She tossed her chin higher and leveled her gaze at the ruler of the entire Galaxy.

He couldn't tell if she had a death wish or if she thought she was invincible, but he would have been impressed if he hadn't been terrified she was about to get cut down with a lightsaber.

His rational mind knew he should be loyal to his master. What offended his master should have offended him. But, in that moment, he found himself more worried about the woman from Jakku than anything else. Something was connecting them, and with every tug she gave on that tether, it drew him closer.

"If I will be Empress one day, then I am only just beginning to learn my power. I don't have anything to forget."

"Rey—" Kylo impulsively interjected, his voice a low plea.

Rey's fiery eyes darted between her two captors; Kylo flinched at the rage in them. "You can have your Empress or you can have me. You cannot have both. I will not serve a regime that murders and kidnaps its way into power."

"Silence," Vader commanded.

Anyone else would have wavered. Rey did not.

"I will not be silenced. I was taken from my home and brought here with no explanation or purpose. You could have any Empress in the galaxy and instead, you stole me. I will not be a victim here and I will not be a pawn."

"You will do as The Force commands."

Vader's hands were shaking. Panic gripped Kylo as it never had before. He could feel it in the air around him, as real and as tangible as the knife he clutched in his fist.

"If you choose to go down that path, then so be it. But you're trying to lead me down a path I can't follow."

Kylo didn't understand why it happened. He didn't understand how. All he knew was that those words, lead me down a path I can't follow, turned Vader's darkness into pure, unbridled rage. Rising from his seat at the head of the table, he raised his arm, used the force to grip Rey's neck, and pulled her up from her own seat with the power of his Force Choke.

She struggled vainly against the invisible hand holding her.

Darth Vader repeated himself. "You…forget…yourself."

Before he knew what he was doing, Kylo was out of his seat.

"Master!"

That one word neutralized the room. Vader dropped Rey. Rey collapsed into her seat, gasping for air and running her hands over her throat to soothe the skin. Kylo's every urge and instinct pushed him to the other side of the room, to check and see if she was okay, but training kept him rooted to the spot. Now, the entire attention of the room was on him. He fought to come up with a plausible explanation for his intervention. His Master would not accept that he'd let the Light tempt him into helping her.

"My betrothed is unfamiliar with the ways of The Force," he managed, deftly. "She needs guidance."

"Then I suggest you give it to her. And quickly."

"I will. I swear it."

Then, Vader turned to Rey. Though he spoke directly to her, Kylo knew that the words were meant for him, as well. "The Force is complicated and its will opaque. Do not trust that it will save you."

With that, his Master left the room. Once the doors hissed closed, Kylo moved to Rey's side to helped her to her feet as clinically as he could. The Light had already tempted him once tonight, he couldn't give into it entirely. Rey shrugged his assistance off, choosing instead to rise to her own two feet.

She might have been out of her wits, challenging The Emperor like that, but he had to admire her grit.

"I don't need your help, thank you," she said, heading for the door without an escort.

Vader's anger hadn't subsided. Kylo could feel it. Rey wandering the halls alone wasn't a good idea. Besides, they needed to speak.

"Are you out of your mind?" he hissed, desperately wishing for the privacy of his helmet.

She scoffed. "Out of my mind?"

"You cannot go against the Emperor and expect there to be no consequences."

"Just because you're too weak to stand up to him doesn't mean that I have to be."

As she blindly stormed down the halls, completely unaware of where she was actually going, Kylo struggled to catch up with her—and to keep his own emotions in check. With every breath, he felt himself ripping at the seams.

The Force wanted her here. The Force wanted them together. The Dark Side wanted him to let her drive herself to ruin. The light side demanded that he help save her. He tried to find the balance between, to obey the will of the Force while remaining steadfast in the principles his Master taught him.

It was proving more difficult than he imagined.

"You have to be careful—"

"If you wanted a quiet wife, you should have left me on Jakku," she spit.

"He could have killed you."

Her flowing dress halted, the short train bundling at her feet from the quick-stop. Kylo halted, too. Too close. Her warm breath danced across his lips. More dangerously tempting than The Light Side of the Force. Her eyes bore all of the accusations she couldn't say aloud.

"But he didn't. You stopped him from hurting me."

"The Force has ordained you as—"

"This is a big galaxy, Kylo Ren. You truly believe that my death could stop the will of The Force?"

The energy around them crackled, just as it had that split second before he'd pressed his fingers to her forehead and searched her mind for any traces of The Force. His body revolted—he wanted to kiss her, to press her to him, to caress her in ways he'd never dared hold another being before.

But he could no more hold her than he could answer her question. The truth was an impossibility, dangled between them like bait over a trap. He hadn't saved her because of the Will of the Force or because he thought she would be the one to save him from the Light, as his master had promised. He saved her because his heart demanded it. Because he couldn't bear to see her in pain.

She spoke again. "I don't believe you are a monster. So, why are you here acting like one?"

She narrowed her eyes slightly, just enough that he could tell she was trying to read him, to see through Kylo Ren to whoever she thought was inside. Remember your training, a dark voice inside of him whispered. He couldn't help but obey. Closing off his every emotion, he straightened his spine and spoke in flat lines.

"Your rooms have been prepared. Tomorrow, we will begin your training."

"Training? For what?"

"For your future as Empress."

"I will not—"

For the second time in a day, he found himself saying that unfamiliar word.

"Please."

"…Alright."

He gave a nod and started to leave, but that tether between them pulled taught and forced him back.

"Will you require anything?"

She blinked. "What?"

"For your neck." Experience told him just how devastating Vader's anger could be. "The choke can be…quite painful. Are you alright?"

The confusion didn't leave her face. "I'm fine."

He swallowed hard and forced himself to say goodbye. No good would come out of staring into those beautiful eyes of hers. "Very well. I'll collect you in the morning. Until then, Lady Rey."

* * *

Finn watched from the shadows as the entire exchange played out, right up until the moment that a spooked Rey was escorted to her new quarters by two of his fellow faceless Stormtroopers. Heart pounding in his ears, he ducked into one of the castle's many restricted access bays, pressing himself into the space between two sweating machines so he could pull up the covert communications device hidden inside of his helmet. Removing the tiny silver disk from the cheek protector, he laid it flat in his right palm and activated it.

"Enter Access Code," came the pre-programmed voice as the small holographic welcome in Aurebesh flickered to life, dancing above his hand. He muttered the fourteen-digit code; the voice recognition confirmed his identity. "Access Granted. Secure Comm Link Engaged."

The Aurebesh disappeared and in its place, the three-dimensional image of Poe Dameron, hogging the view port on his end of the line, came into view.

"Finn, what've you got for us, buddy? I don't like the idea of you being there much longer."

A voice, strong and familiar, broke the hum of the comm-device, but he still couldn't see the source of it.

"Poe?"

"Yes, m'am?"

"Do you mind if I run my own mission?" the voice asked.

If Poe weren't in the belly of the beast, in the middle of his most dangerous and important mission yet, he might have smiled at General Leia Organa's dry wit. How she managed a sense of humor in the face of such staggering odds, in the face of all she'd been through, he couldn't even begin to understand. Poe coughed at the gentle rebuke, and dodged out of the communicator's way, giving Finn his first real glimpse of the woman in charge.

"Of course not. I'm sorry, General."

"Finn, report."

Out of habit, he glanced left, glanced right. And then, offered them the first bit of hope the Rebellion had had in a long, long time. "The girl is here. And everything is going as expected."

* * *

**Chapter Four! And a cliffhanger, to boot! What did you think of this chapter? I can't wait to hear your thoughts in the reviews. Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing! And an extra special thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far! It's so much fun to interact with everyone who reads my little story!**


	6. Chapter Five

_Chapter Five _

When Kylo Ren returned to his rooms that night, he found that he couldn't sleep. Nothing—not the soothing silence of his chamber, not recounting troop movements around the galaxy, not a few sips of Trikallian Ale—managed to lull him into a restful slumber. Of course, nothing could. Because nothing could get The Girl off of his mind.

Which was why he found himself in the top room of The High Tower, a blank canvas of a dark room he'd requisitioned for his own training purposes. Yes, he spent most of his time training with Emperor Vader, honing his skills as a Sith Lord and learning the ways of The Force. But there were other times, like now, when he preferred the solitude of a private training session. One without the droning repetitions of his master—_Cling to your feeling! Let your anger flow through you! Your hatred should be your only guide!_—one where he could, instead, embrace silence. Both in the room, and in his own mind.

Today, he needed silence. He needed somewhere to escape thoughts of Rey of Jakku.

He'd hoped fighting off hordes of holographic armies single-handedly would have done the trick, but as he slaughtered the last of them and the program powered down, leaving his chest sweaty and heaving, he still hadn't managed to escape the thought of her.

Why did The Force want her, of all people? Where had she come from? The glimpse he'd gotten into her mind hadn't told him much—Why? What made her the bold and brave creature unafraid of staring down the two most powerful creatures in the galaxy?

But, perhaps more troublingly, his mind didn't just stop at questions about Rey. They probed about _him_, too.

What was this connection he felt to her? Why couldn't he shake her from his very being? Why had he reached into her mind? Why had he interfered when Lord Vader was disciplining her?

Those weren't questions he had the answers to. Or rather, the answers were just there, beneath the surface. He just didn't want to reach for them.

TY-4-Zero, the small arm droid operating the controls of the holographic war program Kylo had just finished chirped to life. His settings were meant to keep him silent except in cases of extreme emergencies; Kylo prepared himself for the worst.

"Master Ren, I believe your heart rate is exceeding safe levels. Do you wish to discontinue the program?"

"No," he growled, igniting his lightsaber once more. Its red glow wrought havoc against the dark walls. "Play it again. Turn off the safety protocols. I want it to hurt."

* * *

Rey was beyond exhausted. The room she'd been housed in—the rooms, plural, actually—were well-appointed and had even more windows than Kylo Ren's chambers, meaning that there was all the more light and star shine to soak up, so it wasn't like she was tossing and turning in a prison cell. She was comfortable, well-fed from the rolls she'd stuffed into her pockets when neither Darth Vader nor his protege were looking, and in the perfect mood to slip into a dreamless sleep and escape her current reality.

But for some reason, sleep evaded her. Every time she got close, Kylo Ren's pleading eyes flashed before her, forcing her awake and sending every one of her nerve endings into red alert.

After a few hours of this, she decided it wasn't worth it to even try anymore.

She attempted, at first, to see if there were any lowered defenses in this room that hadn't been available in Kylo Ren's room. She checked the floorboards and the wall wiring and the windows for any sign of weakness, to no avail. By the time dawn broke and morning crept over the artificial neon lights of Coruscant, the sky had already begun to cloud over with threatening rain clouds, lowering her mood even further.

Rey was done with waiting. Drawing a black cloak—pulled from the stocked wardrobe at her bedside— over her shoulders, she decided to take matters into her own hands. The only way out of this room was through her front door. And she was going to take it.

With no one guarding her room and the hallways practically barren, she began her snooping. Besides an escape plan, she wasn't quite sure what she was looking for, but she'd know when she found it. Soft steps carried her through the darkened hallways, past stolen galactic art and plundered treasures. Idly, she wondered why they even bothered collecting art. She couldn't imagine Kylo Ren or Emperor Vader feeling anything, much less feeling anything that art could invoke.

As she stared up at a painting of a small woman in a red robe, the canvas slashed straight through the middle as if someone had tried to destroy it in a rage, she tried to imagine what Kylo Ren would see in a piece like this one. It wasn't like Rey had much experience with art, but even she could see that the woman—even with part of her face distorted by the ruined canvas—was beautiful. But she also looked very kind. And very, very sad. She couldn't imagine Kylo would say anything about this painting except, possibly, that it was a reward for conquering the planet inscribed at the bottom of the frame. Naboo.

So wrapped up in her evaluation of the art, Rey didn't even notice when a Stormtrooper—not her friend Finn, but a stranger—had spotted her.

"You, there!" The voice crackled, drawing her attention to the far end of the hall where he stood, blaster at the ready. Rey cursed her selection of art to gawk at. She'd picked a painting decorating the wall of a dead-end. The Stormtrooper had her cornered. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

Lowering the blaster slightly, the soldier made straight for her. Rey's heartbeat picked up. "Come along. Master Ren will want to see you."

"No, just let me go back to my room. I won't leave again. I swear."

But it was to no avail. The tight, gloved fist of the Stormtrooper caught hold of her upper arm and refused to let go, no matter how hard she struggled. Up and up and up through the castle they traveled, revealing more and more dark hallways, a veritable sea of confusing corners and misdirecting architecture. The closer they got to their destination, the more her will to fight diminished. Even if she did manage to get free, she'd never find her way out of here.

When, finally, they reached a tall doorway at the top of one of the castle's spires, Rey nearly breathed a sigh of relief. Whatever punishment she would get for leaving her room, at least she wouldn't have to dread it any longer.

But the second the door opened, the relief she felt disintegrated. Because there, in the center of the room, swinging his lightsaber at holographic figures and cutting them into nothingness, stood Kylo Ren. Sweaty. Breathing heavily. Shirtless.

And beautiful.

Beautiful in the way of a murderous snake about to strike, of a hungry beast about to pounce and take down its prey, but beautiful nonetheless. Suddenly breathing became incredibly difficult.

"What are you doing here?" He growled, not looking at the stormtrooper, but instead, directly and piercingly at her. She noticed that, while he did wave his hand and end the war program flickering all around him, he did not move to disengage his lightsaber. The red light burned against the dark walls, giving him an otherworldly, ghostly glow.

"Master Ren, we found her lurking around—"

"Get your hands off of her!"

The stormtrooper instinctively gripped her tighter. Rey let out a hiss of pain. "But—"

"I said…" Kylo Ren turned the lightsaber on him. His eyes blazed even brighter than the weapon. A shiver traveled down Rey's spine even as the heat from the device radiated towards her. "Move. Or you will be moved."

"Yes, my lord."

He obeyed. It took nearly everything Rey had to keep from collapsing to the ground from the loss of his support. But she wouldn't give either man the satisfaction.

"Now, go. And don't interrupt again."

The stormtrooper did not need to be told twice. With a salute of deference, he evacuated the room at top speed, leaving Rey and Kylo Ren quite alone indeed. Rey did everything in her power to avoid looking at his bare chest and his blazing eyes, and still, it wasn't enough to completely keep her from surveying his perfect form.

It was easy, however, to hold onto her anger and her humiliation at her situation. She was a captive who'd just been dragged through her prison and basically thrown at the feet of her captor. Even on Jakku, as a nobody, she'd never felt so small, so debased.

She struggled to keep her composure, to seem unaffected on the outside when her insides wanted to wage a war.

"What were you doing out of your rooms?"

"I was just…Do you have a cloak or a tunic or something you could put on?"

One eyebrow quirked. His lips turned into something like a smile. "Why? Am I proving a distraction?"

"No. It's just—"

"If we're going to be married, then you should get used to the sight of me."

There it was. Another reminder of her future with him, just as the bed had been. Mustering her strength, she spun on her heel.

"I'll be going back to my room, then."

"I have not dismissed you." The air around her tightened, almost like when Vader had choked her. It stopped her in her tracks, only loosening when her muscles contracted to return to facing him. Kylo Ren deactivated his lightsaber. He repeated his question. "What are you doing out of your rooms? Why were you lurking?"

"I was just exploring. Learning my way around. I don't like being unfamiliar with my surroundings."

"You should not travel alone, not even out of your chambers. I'll assign a stormtrooper to look after your care."

Her mind flashed to Finn. Perhaps it would be advantageous to start building friendships and alliances inside of this palace. If she was going to be here for a while—at least until she could devise some means of escape—then she'd need as many creatures of the palace on her side as possible. But her pride wouldn't let her back down, not from him.

"I survived almost my entire life in a desert. I do not need anyone's protection."

"Yes, but you weren't an empress then."

"I'm not an empress now."

"No, but you will be. I'm glad you've come, actually. We can begin your training." With long-legged strides, he crossed the room, putting plenty of space between them. Just the way she liked it. "Walk over here."

"Why?"

He returned his lightsaber to its holster at his hip, drawing her eye to the line of muscles just above his belt. Her jaw instinctively tightened. The small action must not have escaped his notice, because his lips tilted upwards again. A tease. "I'm not going to bite. Just walk across the room."

For a moment, she considered disobeying him. But then, she remembered the way he manipulated the air around her just a minute ago, forcing her to turn and face him. She'd heard rumors of his undeniable power and how he used it against those who displeased him. She didn't want to think about him reaching out to choke her instead of merely shifting her position in the room. Drinking in a deep breath, she did as he asked, carefully making her way across the empty space between them.

She only made it a few steps before he held up a hand for her to halt.

"What's…What's that sound? That jingling?"

Her throat tightened. "Nothing."

"Lady Rey—"

"Don't call me that."

"Rey. Empty out your pockets."

Slowly, trying to act as casually as she possibly could manage, she placed her hands into her pockets, a defensive move. Instinctively, she took a step away from him. Which, of course, only invited him closer. "…No."

He narrowed his eyes slightly, but the gesture wasn't menacing. Just curious. "Why not?"

"Because I don't want to."

"Empty your pockets or I'll do it for you."

A knot formed in the pit of her stomach as her mind designed imagery of him trying. His hands sliding down her hips and invading her space, his breath warm against her neck, his skin tickling her own…

Without ceremony, she turned out the fabric, dumping the contents of her pocket onto the floor. Shiny gemstones mounted on slender metallic stands, small pieces of table-top art she'd collected during her survey of the halls near her chambers, clattered in a heap to the polished floor beneath her feet.

Kylo Ren's expression was unreadable. For the first time, she wished he still had the mask on. Bending down, he collected the handful of jewels and cradled them in his palms, the vibrant colors catching what little light the room had and reflecting the colors against the pale skin of his cheeks.

"What are these doing in your pockets?"

She waited for a believable lie to come to her. One never showed up. No use in lying now, anyway. She extended her hand for the treasures. "I thought they might be valuable. I'll need credits when I go back to Jakku."

"You aren't going back to Jakku."

"Oh, yes, I am."

Kylo Ren turned from her then, pocketing the gems. Even without the full force of his eyes upon her, she felt his anger in the air. "You are offered the life of an Empress, leader of the entire Galaxy, and you wish to go back to your desert?"

"At least in the desert, there are no Kylo Rens lurking about."

"If I weren't here, then? You'd wish to stay?"

There was something broken about his voice that she didn't want to examine. She sniffed and folded her arms, pretending to take a deep interest in an imperfect spot on the stone floor.

"No. My family left me on Jakku. They're going to come back for me. I know it."

"Is that true? _Do_ you know that?" he asked, turning on her. When she didn't answer, when she couldn't answer, he reached out a gloved hand towards her, just as he had done the first time they met. Her mind flashed back to those few moments of terrifying intimacy as he sorted through the contents of her mind. Controlling her heartbeat was a useless exercise now. With every one of its frantic palpitations, he closed the gap between them, a maniacal glint in his dark eyes.

"Stop," she whispered, closing her eyes against him.

"Let me have a look inside of your mind. Let me see the truth."

"You already know the truth. I just told you."

"Oh, no, Rey. You just told me a lie. Do you even know it's a lie?"

She had nowhere to run. He'd backed her into the wall. The cool stone seeped through the thin layers of clothing she'd wrapped herself in, while his heat radiated through her front. The clash of sensations met in the middle, threatening to tear her apart. He removed his glove and dropped it to the floor.

"Let me go," she demanded.

"Let me in," came his retort, his fingertips pressing into her temple.

With all of the mental strength she didn't know she had, she fought him off. She didn't want him to see her family, didn't want him to see the depths of her, where she'd hidden the truth about them. Her pulse pounded in her ears. The darkness of the room roared around her. The air around her seemed engaged in some kind of war far beyond her control.

"No."

"I want to know the truth."

"You already know the truth. I just told you—"

"Rey—"

"_Stop_!"

Her vision went red as blood. And for a split second, everything went quiet and still. Her hand reached out. And, without touching him, threw him across the room. The man landed in a heap on the floor, small and pathetic and weak. She gulped for air, blinking at her hand._ What had she done?_

"How did you do that?" Kylo Ren barked.

"I…I…I don't know. I just…" Horror painted itself into her every feature. She'd never…How could she… She'd just used The Force. Somehow, she instinctively knew that's what had happened. And she didn't want to face it. Or him, for that matter. She made for the door. "I have to go."

"Don't—"

But it was too late. She'd already left, sprinting through the hallways towards her chambers in a brazen escape. And to her surprise, he did not follow her.

* * *

She returned to her rooms. Her feet carried her there without her conscious effort, following the now-slightly familiar hallways until she collapsed back into her bed in an exhausted ball. Her mind, instead of racing to puzzle out what had just happened to her, repeated the facts of the moment quite simply. _You used The Force. Kylo Ren knows you can use The Force. You could turn out just like him if you're not careful. You have to get out of here. You have to escape._

Biding her time and making enough allies to make good her flight from this place no longer seemed acceptable. She needed to go before she became any more like the monsters keeping her here than she already had.

As a plan formulated in her mind, she began packing the possessions they'd allowed her in this room—clothes, a few knick-knacks that might have been worth something, a few refresher bars to clean herself on the go—and only stopped when the door's alert bell rang and a familiar voice reached her ears.

"Lady Rey?" Finn called. Rey's tensed shoulders relaxed.

"Yes. Come in."

The introduction of Finn, who carried a silver tray in his arms, into the front room of her chamber—a reception and lounge suite done up in the same black and red materials as the rest of the castle—evolved her plan. Finn had been good to her, as close to a friend as she'd found in this place. Perhaps he was the key she needed. He placed the tray on a nearby table and removed the cloche top, revealing a hot, buttery smelling stew and a basket of rolls. Rey's stomach growled without her permission.

"Master Ren has sent me with dinner. I'm to be your new personal guard. And I'm also to tell you he realizes that you don't need a personal guard, but hopes you accept one anyway."

There was a softness to that declaration, a softness she couldn't imagine Kylo Ren ever expressing. Perhaps Finn embellished the truth.

"Thank you, Finn. Thank you."

She dove into the stew with one hand, spooning mouthfuls of meat and vegetables down her throat, while shoving roll after roll from the basket into her now-empty pockets. She'd need her strength if she was going to make it out of this place alive. Finn hesitated in the doorway.

"You know, they'll let you have all the food you want. You don't have to hide it away. They aren't going to starve the future Empress."

"I'm not going to be an empress, Finn. I'm going to escape. I'm going back to Jakku."

Finn flinched. With his helmet on, she couldn't see his expression, but she knew from his body language that she'd spooked him. "You can't go back to Jakku. Why would anyone want to go back to Jakku?"

"I have my reasons."

"My Lady, I—"

"If you aren't going to help, then I have to ask you to leave."

The declaration was a gamble. One she lost. The bitter taste of defeat filled her mouth. Finn, her only ally in this place, wasn't going to help free her.

"I can't—"

"Just go. I'll figure this out myself."

After a brief hesitation in the doorway, Finn abandoned her, leaving her chambers with a hiss of the electronic doors. Rey counted backward from one hundred, trying to clear her mind. Without thinking, she reached for the last bread roll in the basket.

Only, when she looked down, she wasn't holding it at all. It floated in the air just above the tray, waiting for her to reach out and take it. She'd done that. And it gave her an idea.

* * *

He'd let her go. Stupidly, foolishly, selfishly, even, he'd let her go. It was shock that did it. And, if he was being honest with himself, which he was almost never inclined to do, it was fear, too. He'd never seen such raw, chaotic power before. When he'd peered into her mind upon their first meeting, he'd seen force sensitivity. Even without looking into her, he felt the light around her. It warmed every room she entered, spilling upon him like errant sunlight through a not-quite-closed curtain.

For the first time since their meeting, he thought he finally understood why The Force had brought them together. She needed a teacher. Someone to help her harness that unbridled power and channel it. He could be that teacher.

That conflict rose up in him again as he considered the possibility. The conflict between the Light and the Dark. The Light told him that she was the key, the key to ending it all. Vader's reign. The rest of his family's exile. The darkness over the entire Galaxy. The Darkness told him that the Galaxy needed its order, that his family deserved to be dead for what they'd done, not just in exile, and that Vader was the exact savior the Galaxy needed, not someone it needed saving from.

By the time the alert bell on the training room's door rang out again, he'd dressed in his robes once again and changed the room's program, hoping that this time the sight of star charts and Imperial expansion plans would prove a better distraction than fighting had.

He waved the door open. But instead of the Imperial Officer or Stormtrooper he'd been expecting, in walked Rey.

"Master Ren?"

He forced his gaze onto the star charts, not wanting her to see what her presence did to him. "Out without an escort again?"

"Yes. I…I'm sorry for what I did today. Whatever it was that I did. You and Emperor Vader have been very kind to me. You've given me a new life. I was wrong to judge you."

"…Yes?"

"I was hoping we might continue our lessons. I should like to learn. I should like to be a good Empress, if you'll still have me."

He searched the air around them for any sign, any hint of deception. But he couldn't find any. The air around them was clear as Tikkanian crystal. Kylo Ren knew it was wrong, traitorous, even, to feel hope at this turn of events. But still, his heart wouldn't listen to reason. It wondered if she'd liked the dinner he sent up and if she'd somehow discovered he was tolerable and better than a life alone in the desert, if she liked Finn, the guard he'd assigned and if his gentle message about her capabilities had softened her heart at all. Controlling his face as best as he could to hide his delight at her return, he closed the holographic star charts and turned to begin their lesson.

"Come, then. Let's begin. Walk across the room."

"Actually," Rey began, shifting her weight. "Can we begin with something different?"

"Such as?"

"You're going to be my husband. Couldn't I get to know you?"

Kylo Ren swallowed, feeling more like Ben Solo in that moment than he had in years. Utterly defenseless as she gazed up at him with those sad, sweet eyes of hers from under dark lashes. "What do you want to know?"

"Come closer."

"You don't give the orders around here," he replied, weakly.

"I want to look into your eyes. I can't see you if you're over there."

"Why do you want to do that?"

"Because maybe I want to learn to like the man I marry. And the eyes are the viewports to the soul."

A smile threatened his lips. Her bleeding warmth and sunshine threatened to shatter his darkness. He attempted to steel himself with every step he took closer to her. They were always playing this game, weren't they? Proximity and Power were dangerous weapons to be fighting with, but he knew he couldn't back down now.

"You'll find that my eyes aren't anything special," he said, dismissively.

She was close now, close enough to touch him. But still, that wasn't close enough for her. Lithe steps brought her close enough that he could hear her heartbeat, see the colored flecks in her eyes, feel the warmth of her breath on his lips. He licked his own, unconsciously. Their eyes met. Hers softened. And slowly, painfully slowly, she raised her hand towards his face. "Oh, yes. They are."

But instead of landing on his cheek, her hand moved past his body. He barely had time to comprehend what was happening. Barely had time to understand he'd been used.

Because with one closing of her fist, Rey of Jakku used The Force to ripping open a hole in the wall behind him.

And without another word, she shoved past his shocked personage, sprinted for the newly created escape, and dove through it.

* * *

**An escape attempt! How daring! I hope Rey makes it out. Let me know what you think of the chapter in a review and thank you so much for reading! It means so much to me!**


	7. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

In the moment before Rey pulled the walls down around them, in the moment before her escape, a million things fought for dominance in her mind. The soft sadness in Kylo Ren's eyes, rising to the surface like moonglow on a puddle of water. The emotion radiating through The Force between them, a feeling almost—almost—like hope. The way something within him tried calling out to something in her, the way something in her wanted to answer right back.

Above it all, though, only one imperative floated to the surface, dominating every other whim or thought. Escape. I have to escape.

But once she'd actually attempted that escape, once she was flying through the air without any way of saving herself from the inevitable crash waiting for her down below, another though took escape's place.

Panic. It gripped her lungs and puppeted her body, until she was flailing and screaming her plummeting way towards the cruel, unfeeling streets of Coruscant below. There was no pain, just the terror and the rushing wind all around her.

This is how I die, she thought, bitterly, jumping out of a building trying to escape Kylo Ren.

But then, just as she thought she was done for, the air around her stopped rushing. Silence took its place. All around her, energy shifted and spun, creating a kind of barrier around her, holding her taut in the middle of the sky as if someone was holding her by the end of a string.

…Not just someone, she discovered as she descended slowly, gently, down towards the lower gardens of the palace. Because when her feet touched the ground and the energy protecting her dissipated once more, she turned to see Kylo Ren drifting slowly behind her.

Once, she'd heard some deep space pilots stranded on Jakku discuss these creatures called angels, rumored to be the most beautiful beings in the world, the kind of ephemeral harnessers of magic who saved dead-in-space pilots from the brink. And as he drifted down towards her, moving through The Force with enough concentration to make his hands tremble, she was positive they couldn't have looked as beautiful—or as terrifying—as he did in that moment. Every few seconds, his expression shifted from rage to hurt and then back again, continuing the cycle until finally, he stood before her.

Only, Kylo Ren wasn't looking at her anymore. He was looking just over her shoulder, at someone whose presence inspired such awe that he immediately dropped to his knees in deference.

Her blood chilled as the life-force around them burned with an icy darkness that wrapped around her throat and tightened, choking her without ever even touching her. She knew even before she was turned around to face him who now held her on the end of a string.

_Vader_.

This force choke was nothing like what she'd just experienced a moment earlier with Kylo Ren. That had been protective, a salvation from her own stupid death. This was a punishment, and she felt every shred of Vader's hatred pulsating through the pain radiating throughout her entire being.

The hissing mechanism of his voice spoke in measured words, completely calm despite his rage. "What have you done?"

"I was…" Rey clawed at her throat, as if she could peel the invisible hands away from her. "We were…I can't—"

"Emperor Vader."

Kylo stood, and Vader mercifully dropped Rey, where she crumpled to the ground in a pathetic heap. Anger swelled inside of her; she'd never been pathetic before. Not even an Emperor was going to make her feel that way. Rage at her own failure swirled inside of her, too. If she'd actually managed to fall safely and manipulate the Force like she'd planned, she wouldn't be here at Vader's feet, dreaming of mercy she didn't think would come.

She couldn't believe she was depending on the intervention of Kylo Ren, of all people. He'd saved her from Vader's clutches once; the fact that he'd now done it twice…She couldn't allow it to happen a third time.

Determination blossomed in the seeds rage had planted. She would learn the ways of The Force. She would use that training to escape. But before she did, she would make sure she slaughtered Darth Vader first.

"When you told me you had her in hand, this was not the result I expected," Vader said, ignoring the girl regaining her breath at his feet. He walked without a Storm Trooper escort, armed only with the lightsaber resting at his hip. For a brief moment, Rey wondered if she could be fast enough to rip the thing from its hilt and run him through with it, but she barely felt strong enough to raise her arm, much less swing a sword. Her resolve to one day kill this man only strengthened with the realization that she could not do it right this moment. "Either you have failed me or she has failed us both. Which is it?"

"We were training."

"Training?"

"She has raw power, Emperor," Kylo said, lowering his voice as if they were plotting something very secretive indeed instead of the fate of their self-proclaimed future Empress. "More power than she knows. Learning the ways of The Force will take time. And a few castles might get broken in the process. But this could be the reason that The Force led her to us. She could become a powerful weapon if aimed in the right direction…" He glanced down at her, his voice dripping with implications that sent a sudden, forbidden rush of heat pooling in the pits of her belly. "And with the right incentives."

Rey tried not to think of what incentives he meant, tried not to think of his bedroom and his soft hands and the way his mind sometimes brushed against hers like a gentle kiss. Instead, she puzzled over his assertion of her power. Did he really mean it or was he trying to manipulate Vader in some way? Was it even possible to manipulate Darth Vader?

"And your suggestion?"

"Coruscant's atmosphere can be stifling. There are too many people, too many prying eyes, too much activity. I suggest taking her somewhere secluded. Perhaps Akiva or Naboo or Dantooine or—"

"Naboo. You will take her to the palace on Naboo."

Darth Vader's voice was certain. A chill ran its way down her spine. Something shifted in Kylo's face, something she couldn't quite place. Was it confusion? Concern? What was so wrong with Naboo? Her mind flashed back to the portrait on the wall she'd passed during her excursion through the castle. The portrait of the red-dressed woman slashed through with lightsaber scorches, that had been painted on Naboo. Were the two linked somehow?

"Master—"

"As Padmé Amidala was to Anakin Skywalker, so, too will Rey of Jakku be to Ben Solo."

"Yes, master," Kylo dipped a bow, his face tight and unreadable.

Rey shivered. Her name on Darth Vader's tongue made it sound like a curse. She didn't know who Padmé Amidala or Anakin Skywalker or Ben Solo were, but Darth Vader seemed certain her name fit amongst theirs.

"Train the girl," Vader instructed. "Bend her to your will. And see that she does not threaten the will of The Force again."

"I swear it."

"Together, we will destroy the rebellion. We will kill Ben Solo. And we will set fire to the past. She will be the spark."

"It is an honor, Master."

* * *

The Imperial Gardens at the base of the Palace on Coruscant could barely be called gardens at all. Instead, the ground had been covered with metallic statues of constellation-lines, and without proper care and supervision, the entire garden had been overtaken by insidious, grotesque weeds that clung to the metal wires and stretched their vines wide towards what little sun Coruscant naturally had. Sometimes, when he was given to introspection, he thought that these gardens were a bit like him. A thing once filled with sunlight and life now overrun with decay and death.

Today, though, he wasn't given to introspection. Today, he had one concern and one concern only: making sure Rey of Jakku didn't die in his care. No matter how many times he told himself he needed to defer to Emperor Vader's wills and whims, he couldn't shake the feeling that they were linked, and that if something happened on her end of that link, something in him would break, too.

When Vader disappeared, Kylo pulled his cloak tighter around his body—protecting himself from the fierce winds—and made for the castle. The harsh sting of betrayal—of her betrayal—burned like a fresh brand against his dead heart. She'd played him like a Growdi Harmonique, coaxing him into exactly the right key for her to pull one over on him.

He'd thought…For a moment, he thought that perhaps, maybe, possibly, there was more than hatred in her heart for him. He thought that she'd not seen him as a captor, but as a fellow prisoner. He thought that perhaps she was even starting to like him, to see something in him.

But no. She'd not seen anything or cared about him. She hated him. And was willing to plummet to her death in order to avoid being with him. The pain of that was worse than any fresh lightsaber stab.

He'd barely made it four steps out of her presence—she was so untrained in The Force that she practically beaconed out her every emotions when she wasn't carefully guarding them, meaning being close to her was the emotional equivalent of jumping headfirst into a stormy midnight sea—when her quiet, insistent foot fall followed behind him.

"Who is Ben Solo?"

"Nobody."

"Why do you have to kill him?"

Because I can't be Ben Solo anymore. Ben Solo is a creature of The Light, a creature of The Past. And Emperor Vader and I are going to kill the past. And the rebellion that tries to hold onto it…Including my parents. Of course, he couldn't tell her the truth. Not the entire truth, anyway.

"Because Emperor Vader demands it."

"And that's all the reasoning you need?"

"Yes."

"But—"

Another question danced to her lips, but he spun on her, towering over her slight form and letting the raw pain and hurt of her dive from the hole in the practice room blaze across his features. He couldn't hide it or run from it.

"Am I really so terrible? Is the idea of being with me so horrifying that you would sooner throw yourself out of a window than even try?"

Rey blinked up at him. She suddenly looked so small. "…I thought I would be able to save myself."

She hadn't answered his question, which was all the answer he needed. Yes, she would prefer death than being with him.

"Well, you couldn't. But with training, you may. We leave for Naboo in the morning."

"What if I refuse?"

He motioned towards the castle, where Vader lay in wait. "You'd rather stay here with the real monster?"

"No."

"Then come with me." Carefully composing his face, he did his best to absolve himself of any emotional baggage, to keep his voice nice and level. But it was impossible to ignore that Rey's betrayal wouldn't have hurt if he didn't feel anything for her. "I will protect you. And teach you. And, perhaps, when it is all over, you will not want to throw yourself out of a window at the thought of being near me."

Coruscant's limited sunlight played against the soft golds in Rey's eyes. She was the light. And it was so tempting to want to bask in her glow. "Why did you save me?"

"From your fall or from Emperor Vader?"

"Both."

He could have regurgitated the lie he'd told her the last time he'd saved her, that it was all because the Will of the Force demanded her to stay alive. But she hadn't believed him then; she wouldn't believe him now.

"I don't know."

"That's not a good enough answer."

As he walked away in a cloud of swirling emotions and a swishing cape, Kylo Ren knew that she was right. But, for the moment, he had no other answer to give her.

* * *

**A Naboo excursion! I'm so excited for y'all to read the next part of the story. It's so much fun. Leave me a review and let me know your story predictions or what you liked about this chapter! It really helps me write faster, knowing that there are people out there enjoying this story!**


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